


Hamilton Has His Eyes on You

by E_Salvatore



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Tumblr Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Salvatore/pseuds/E_Salvatore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Tumblr fic for the prompt 'Hamilton watches the changes that occur from the other side over the centuries. He really wants a smart phone.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hamilton Has His Eyes on You

**I**

**FREEDOM FOR AMERICA**

It takes sixty-one years after his death (and _eighty-three_ after John’s) but finally, the day has come.

They are there in the room when the votes are counted, there when the law is signed into effect, there when it is declared to the people. They are all there and he hears Eliza sniffling, sees Angelica smiling, feels the joy in John’s every movement as his old friend turns to him with tears in his eyes and a shaky smile on his face, trying to convey through a hug the relief and joy he cannot find the words to express.

Hamilton watches his fallen comrades take to the streets to celebrate the freedom they were denied in life, the freedom now granted to their descendants.

Sixty-one years and already he is slowly fading into the annals of history, his name and his legacy gradually receding from public knowledge. Let it be, let time do as it will, let history swallow him whole.

He can no longer make history, but he will gladly be its keeper if this is what he gets to bear witness to.

 

 

 

**II**

**VOTES FOR ALL**

Angelica keeps a watchful eye on the women’s suffrage movement throughout the decades, sharing with them the small victories she hears of in different countries while she waits impatiently for their granddaughters and great-granddaughters to be given the same rights as their brothers.

She is there in 1913, marching down Pennsylvania Avenue with thousands of young women while Hamilton watches from the sidelines, not at all surprised to find Eliza and their daughters joining in a short while later.

She is there in 1917, joining the protestors outside the White House as Hamilton catches on to the growing discontent of these women, as he is reminded of days spent debating loyalists and pushing for change, for war, for their freedom.

They are all there in 1920, waiting for Tennessee to vote on the 19th Amendment. When the vote comes in (50 to 49), Angelica grabs Eliza by the hand and they spin around ecstatically, a stark contrast to the banal proceedings behind them as votes are re-counted and documented for posterity’s sake.

One war has just ended and already another is brewing, but it is the joy on the sisters’ faces as they celebrate a victory they could never have witnessed in their lifetimes that keeps Hamilton watching, waiting, hoping for history to surprise him.

 

 

 

**III**

**HAMILTON OPENING NIGHT**

He has been forgotten for so many years that it comes as a complete surprise when they start telling his story again. Telling it, sharing it, _singing_ it. They are all there that first night, watching from the wings as a young man cements his legacy by sharing Hamilton’s.

Eliza cries when her counterpart sings of their first meeting. She cries when the woman beseeches her husband to let them be enough. She stiffens at the mention of Maria Reynolds, lets Angelica lead her away for a brief respite. They return in time to watch Eliza sing of betrayal and burn their letters, and Hamilton holds his wife as they both cry for Philip, an old wound so easily reopened.

When he dies on-stage, she turns away.

To him, it is a story of his triumph, despite his eventual defeat at the hands of Burr. From his first meeting with Burr to their last encounter, from the moment Eliza’s eyes find his to the last number when he returns for her, it tells his story from start to finish and ends on a note of hope.

But to Eliza, it is only part of her story. His death was not her end, but the beginning of a painful chapter. It is a reminder of bleaker times, a reminder of being widowed and a mother of seven when she should have been a mother of eight, a reminder of fifty years doing so much yet not enough, missing her husband and her son and her sisters, waiting for the day she could join them.

His heart breaks for her, but when she turns around she has nothing but an impossibly wide smile for him.

“They’re telling our story,” Eliza beams at him, eyes bright with pride and tears.

They stand when the curtain rises once more, clap and cheer along with everyone else, louder than anyone else.

Tonight, these brilliant young people have done more than tell his story.

After all these years, they’ve put him back into the narrative.

 

 

 

**IV**

**THE ELECTION OF 2016**

“Look!” He drags Eliza over to a young lady seated on a park bench, hunched over her little phone. She uses her finger to move the text on the screen, occasionally snorting in amusement at whatever it is she’s reading.

Currently, the screen reads in bold letters: **HAMILTON FOR PRESIDENT 2k16!**

“Alexander,” Eliza chides him, pulling him away from the girl. “That could be private!”

“But it isn’t!” Hamilton points out, gleefully tugging her along as he spies on a string of young people, reading over their shoulders.

**FIVE BUCKS SAYS HAMILTON WOULD _EVISCERATE_ TRUMP IN TWO MINUTES**, another screen proclaims.

“Eliza, I need one of these.”

She’s always been helpless when it comes to those eyes but her husband _cannot_ be allowed to gain control to a smart phone. Angelica has warned her against it ever since the dawn of social media. “Absolutely not, Alexander.”

“But _look_ at this! I could share my opinions with the world with a tap of my finger. I could correct so many mistaken people with a simple message. Eliza, the people _need_ me to stop Trump!”

“This is not our-”

“He wants to deport children.”

Eliza stops short. She looks around at the hundreds of people milling about the park on a Saturday morning, nearly all of them engrossed in their phones. What chaos would she be unleashing upon the unsuspecting masses?

Whatever the consequences, she will weigh it against the good of those children and find it well worth the price.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

“Yes!” Hamilton mimics the currently popular motion of pumping one’s fist in the air.

There _is_ the slight matter of them being ghosts with no physical forms, but Hamilton will hardly let something as small as that stand in his way.

He’s made history and he’s recorded history. Now it is time for him to shape history… with the help of a few well-composed tweets.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a tiny little Tumblr ficlet, so I'm sorry that it's a little rough around the edges. I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless!


End file.
